


In Which Steve Talks Entirely Too Much for Bucky's Comfort

by niesbixby



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, I am so sorry, LGBTQ Character, Like a GSA club, M/M, clubs, i don't know what happened to it, preserum steve, this is a prompt from tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-20 20:00:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2441144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niesbixby/pseuds/niesbixby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a prompt from tumblr. "college!au where steve’s a (really enthusiastic and in-your-face) member of his school’s lgbtq+ rights club and bucky’s a (bisexual and shy) freshman who’s just trying to find clubs to join and happens to get stuck at the booth where a skinny (but extremely cute) guy has been talking about the a being for asexual for thirty-seven minutes without pause"<br/>I tried. I really did try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anomalousity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anomalousity/gifts).



> So anomalousity wanted this kind of au, and this person posted a prompt on tumblr, and this whole thing here kind of happened.

“You realize that you have to come out of this room at some point today, James,” his father tells him as he tries to drag the comforter out of Bucky’s hands. It is his first day at whatever liberal arts college school his parents have packed him off too. (“We were so supportive when you told us about your…preferences, the least you can do is go to the school your mother and I picked out for you.” He’d wanted to punch his father then, and the feelings have not lessened in any sense of the word.)

His father finally succeeds in pulling the comforter off him and clicks his tongue distastefully at his son’s attire. “For god’s sake, put on some decent clothing and go to the Activities Fair. Then you can come back in here and do whatever it is you do.” His tone makes it clear that “whatever it is you do” is probably something distasteful.

His father glances around the dorm room, taking in the band posters, piles of books, and the skull that sits on his nightstand. Then he walks out. Bucky sits up as soon as he hears the door slam shut behind the older man and stares at the closed door. He really should leave the room at some point, and he knows better than to directly ignore his father.

His father is a senator, after all.

Bucky pulls on a pair of jeans and a semi clean tee shirt, then laces up his boots. He contemplates doing something about his hair, but decides that he doesn’t want to expend the energy it would take to fix it. And besides, rumpled looks good, right?

He doesn’t worry about his roommate at all. Fact: the guy has hardly been here since 8:00 this morning, when he rolled off his bed, muttering something about going to find some girl. What was his name again? Oh, yeah. Clint. Bucky thinks that he was probably going to find that poisonous red haired girl. She reminded him of a spider.

But hey, whatever floats Clint’s boat. He’s in no position to judge, given his own situation. Bucky forces himself off the bed and picks up his weather beaten leather jacket, heading for the door. He thinks that if he’s lucky, he can stay for ten minutes and then go back to sleep.

He isn’t lucky.

He doesn’t know why he continues to expect that he will be. It’s just another bit of evidence of his subconscious’s relentless optimism, in spite of the fact that the rest of him is so cynical. Bucky thinks that his subconscious isn’t being quite fair. 

The Activities Fair is of course, sickeningly cheerful, and he can almost feel the throng of people crushing in around him, squeezing the air out of his lungs, trampling him into the ground. Bucky gets out of the crowd fairly quickly after that and ends up standing a short distance away from a brightly painted booth. It is decorated with paintings of rainbows. A couple of them are very good, and a couple of them look like they’ve been painted by five year olds, and the rest are somewhere in between. 

What hell kind of club is this? Bucky thinks and then he sees the sign above it and oh shit, he needs to get the hell out of here. His eyes skim over the letters, which read, LGBTQA+ Club, and-

Wait. He’s bisexual. There’s no conceivable reason for him to be running away from this booth. No one is going to eat him, he reminds himself. No one is going to mug him or filet him with a mango chutney or-

Actually, it might be a good time to start walking away. Slowly. Casually, so he doesn’t attract any attention. But he’s been caught. The short, skinny blond kid who’s standing behind the booth clears his throat and Bucky knows for a certainty that he’s not going to get out of here without making conversation. Then he takes a closer look at the kid and holy crap, he’s really hardcore about this club, isn’t he? He’s wearing a white shirt with rainbow suspenders and his face is painted rainbow on one side and pink and blue on the other side to the extent that Bucky’s not sure what he actually looks like.

“Must be a very interesting sign,” he says. Bucky nods, trying not to make eye contact. “I’m Steve,” he offers. Bucky says nothing. Steve rolls a hand in his general direction. “And you are?” he prompts.

“Bucky,” he blurts, and immediately wishes he hadn’t. Never give them your name, stupid. Then they know how to track you down. 

“Okay,” Steve says. “Nice to meet you, Bucky. Any chance you’re LGBTQA+?” This comes out cheerfully, as if he’s not had any opportunities to say it all day. And Bucky can believe it. 

People seem to be going out of their way to avoid this booth in particular. In fact, he is attracting stares just by standing in front of it for so long.

“Um…Ally?” he tries, and Steve’s expression immediately darkens.

“You know it doesn’t actually stand for ally, right? It’s asexual.”

Shit. Now look what he’s done. “No, I wasn’t aware of that,” Bucky says, trying to back away. But Steve just keeps talking about how asexuals are so frequently ignored in queer culture and all Bucky can think is how hot Steve is when he gets really worked up about something. Because holy shit. Steve gets really hot when he’s worked up about something. He starts waving his hands and his cheeks get all red and it’s just effing adorable.

So he just stands there, listening to the rant like an idiot and trying not to drool because this kid has cheekbones and eyes and Bucky’s really not sure how long he lets it go on but suddenly some guy is tapping Steve on the shoulder and he’s fairly certain that his eyes are about the size of dinner plates. Steve stops in the middle of a word and stares at the guy. 

“Clint,” he says, and it’s Bucky’s roommate and that poisonous looking girl.

Clint looks faintly amused. “Dude. Stop talking. You’re scaring the poor guy out of his wits.”

Steve glances over and then back at Clint. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Not me. Him.”

Steve looks over at Bucky and clears his throat. “Yeah. So I get a little carried away sometimes. Sorry about that whole…” he waves a hand. “Diatribe?”

Bucky shifts his feet uncomfortably. “It’s…it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He looks down at his watch and Bucky realizes that he’s been standing here listening to Steve talk for a good 37 minutes. 

“So, I’m guessing you don’t want to join?”

He bites his lip and thinks about it for maybe ten seconds, enough time for Steve’s face to fall. He opens his mouth, but Bucky cuts him off. “Nah, I’ll join. Come this far, I might as well.”  
Steve’s face splits in a giant grin and that’s when Bucky realizes that he might be in love.


	2. In Which I Should Have Committed to a Chapter Limit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first meeting of the LGBTQA+ club, and Bucky is caught by surprise.
> 
> Or, Steve is way too enthusiastic about making posters.

“The fuck,” Bucky says through gritted teeth, staring at the door of his room. Because it is his room. Clint spends nearly all his time with Natasha, returning occasionally in the middle of the night. 

But that’s not the problem. The problem is his door.

Someone-Steve. Steve has come to his door sometime and covered it entirely with rainbows and glitter glue signs. He’s not going to deny that they’re very well made, but really? They haven’t even had a meeting yet.

Bucky takes a closer look. Among the rainbow of paper is a small, handwritten note in neat handwriting. It reads:

Dear Bucky,

I hope you like the decorations. There’s going to be a meeting tonight at the student rec center. We’ll be in the commons, near the pillar. It’s at 6:00, so don’t be late!

Steve

Bucky checks his watch. It’s 5:50. The rec center is 15 minutes away by foot. 

He can totally make it if he runs.

So he whips the door open, tosses his backpack across the room and onto his bed, and sets off at a dead sprint for the center. By the time he gets there, he is panting and out of breath, but still two minutes early. He stares at the steps and climbs them, wondering why he even bothered to come.

It’s his door. It’s definitely his door.

Bucky looks around the commons, trying to spot Steve’s blond hair. He sees him sitting at a round table, surrounded by a group of people Bucky’s never met before. So he walks over and sits down awkwardly in the last available chair.

“Hey,” Steve says, trying to hold back a laugh at something someone’s said. “Glad you made it in time.”

Someone pounds him on the back, he’s not sure who. Bucky tries to make himself as small as possible, which is difficult considering his height.

Steve continues. “So we’re going to go around and introduce ourselves. I’ll start. I’m Steve and I’m gay.”

Someone snickers and is promptly elbowed. A short, dark haired guy goes next. “I’m Tony and I’m straight. But I’m sure that any of you people could turn me.” Steve’s lips purse. “Oh, and I’m a grad student.”

“Natasha. Trans.” She pauses. “That’s all.”

“Clint. Junior. And I’m bi.” Clint waves at Bucky, who nods.

A skinny pale kid with black hair and a green beanie looks up from his phone. “I’m Loki. I’m a freshman, and I’m pansexual.” He glances down at his phone for a moment before adding, “And no, Thor’s not really my older brother. Oaf.”

A brawny blond guy booms, “Pay him no mind. I am Thor, his brother, and I prefer women.”

Steve winces. “Okay. Maybe not quite so loud, Thor?” Thor nods and looks over at a black student.

“Yeah. I’m Sam, I’m a senior, and I’m ace aromantic. So don’t try anything on me, okay?” Tony laughs.

Bucky is the only one left, he realizes. His face reddens. “Go on,” Steve says kindly.

“I’m Bucky,” he mutters, and Loki cuts him off. 

“Sorry, what?”

“Bucky,” he says, louder. “I’m a freshman, and I’m…flexible.” The corner of Loki’s mouth twitches ever so slightly, and Steve is full on grinning.

“Great. Now that we all know each other, we can get of with business. What about decorations? Do we want to do those again?’ This question was met with a general consensus of groans. Except for Steve and Bucky.

“Do we have to?” Tony complains. “They’re so tacky. It makes us look like stereotypically gay people.”

Thor chimes in. “It took an age to clean off my door last year. Loki rolls his eyes as if he’s heard this story about a thousand times and simply can’t summon the will to care anymore.

Steve holds up his hands and the group quiets down. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I thought we liked this. They’re a nice way to welcome people to the group.” He glances around the table. 

“Actually, I did some this morning for our new members. What did you guys think?

Loki looks bored. “My roommate took pictures and posted them to Instagram. And then he teased me for half an hour.” He pauses and looks inordinately pleased with himself. “So I put   
a chicken bouillon cube in his coffee when he wasn’t looking.”

Sam looks horrified. “That was you? I tasted chicken soup for an hour and a half.” Loki shrugs.

“Bucky?” Steve asks, almost pleadingly. He can almost feel how much Steve wants someone, anyone, to approve of his little sign campaign. Everyone turns to look at him.   
Bucky shifts in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “Um, yeah. I think they’re nice, just maybe a little less, I don’t know. Over the top?”

Steve thinks about it for a second and nods. “Yeah, okay. I can scale it back a little.” Bucky thinks privately that what Steve thinks is scaling back probably isn’t what the rest of the group would agree with. Steve turns to the group. “That sound okay to you guys?”

Murmurs of assent. Clint and Natasha look at each other and shrug in unison. Loki crosses his arms and says nothing at all.

“So that’s all I wanted to get through tonight, guys. Same time next week-“ Steve says, and they all disappear in a flurry of jackets and excuses. “Well.”

Bucky and Steve are left sitting alone at the table. “So, thanks for coming, and for backing me up on the poster thing,” Steve says, looking down at his feet. He seems   
uncharacteristically nervous.

“Yeah, no problem,” Bucky replies, collecting his things. He pulls his coat on and stands up. “So, same time, same place, next week?” he asks.

“Yup!” Steve replies cheerfully. “Glad to have you.” He pauses and thinks for a moment, before coming to a realization. “Don’t we have French together? Tuesdays, Madame Parker?”

Bucky thinks. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that we do.” He starts walking toward the front doors. “So, I’ll see you then?”

“On va voir,” he says.

When Bucky returns to his room, he thinks that maybe the posters aren’t so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-People said they would read a second part, so I wrote it. Hope it lives up to your expectations; I cranked this out in Advanced Algebra.
> 
> Also, do you think the plot should be extended past this? Comment below, loves.


End file.
